Tempest in a Teacup
by static shakedown
Summary: Oneshot. Whenever eating alone, Mashiro always preferred sitting outside. That was one reason why his good mood instantly soured when he pushed open the glass door to the outside terrace and came face-to-face with Sou Mizuhashi.


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything involving After School Nightmare.**

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**Tempest in a Teacup**

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Dusk had arrived by the time Mashiro finally had a time to catch a bite to eat. All day he was busy with things like school, the infirmary, and spending time with Kureha. Thus, even though it was already eight o' clock, Mashiro hurried to the school cafeteria for his long-anticipated dinner. His stomach began growling in response to the delicious smells of food that wafted through the air from the direction he was heading in. He suppressed the growl with an arm pressing against his midsection as he opened the swinging doors and made a beeline to the stack of trays.

Whenever eating alone with the option to sit wherever he pleased, Mashiro always preferred sitting outside, away from the buzz of the fluorescent light bulbs and the iterative din of trays sliding; that was one reason why his good mood instantly soured when he pushed open the glass door to the outside terrace and came face-to-face with Sou Mizuhashi at the nearest table. With thin, pursed lips, Sou was blowing on a cup of hot tea; his legs were crossed, one over the other; and his right arm reclined along the spine of his chair.

It took Mashiro more than a moment to recover from his surprise, as was evident by the line of students behind him telling him to move because he was blocking the door. Cheeks reddening, he stepped aside and stood in embarrassment beside the door, scouring the outside area to find an empty table. Tracing an imaginary oval that started and ended with Sou's table, Mashiro, much to his dismay, saw that there were no empty tables. Also to his dismay, he noticed that Sou still had not taken his eyes off him. That made Mashiro more flustered, as he could feel his blush almost reach the tip of his ears. Regardless, he refused to break the resumed eye contact; knowing that now that they had met up on accident again they would have to continue their silent war. Mashiro cursed his luck as he walked up to Sou's table.

"May I sit here?" Mashiro said with a bland expression and a monotonous voice.

"Sure," Sou agreed coolly.

Mashiro noted that Sou's lips, perhaps unknowingly, quirked into a smirk before he took a sip of his lemon tea, but decided to ignore it and sit down anyway.

Clearly, Mashiro's long-awaited dinner under the stars was not turning out to be as enjoyable as he'd imaged it would be. Whenever Mashiro looked up from his tray he took special precaution to look anywhere but at Sou; but Sou's steady gaze on him made his skin burn and his fingers twitch out of nervousness. After a couple moments of staring listlessly at a tree, his gaze slowly made its way to Sou's.

Since Mashiro was technically the one who had interrupted Sou's peaceful tea time, he decided to be the bigger man and try to make casual small talk while they were both stuck there.

"So . . ." He internally grimaced, realizing that he really had nothing to talk about (anything, at least, that would actually be pleasant or casual) with this guy.

"What?" Sou asked. His curiosity piqued slightly.

"Huh? What did you say?" Mashiro asked. So preoccupied was he in his search for an innocent topic to talk about that he hadn't heard Sou's remark.

"Sou what?" Sou repeated.

Now Mashiro was confused. Had he missed something that Sou had said or was Sou trying to have an attitude because he asked him to repeat his words?

Since Sou was now looking at him expectantly to reply, he tried to clarify what Sou had previously said. "'So what' what Sou? I didn't hear what you said before."

At this Sou raised his eyebrow, leaned forward in his chair to cup his face in his hands, and rested his elbows on the round table.

"Weren't you whispering my name just now?" Sou asked. Although his face was the picture of perfect innocence, the weird innuendo in his voice made Mashiro hasten to explain himself.

"No! I wasn't whispering your name; I just said 'so'!"

There was a lull of about five seconds where Sou's smirk returned full force.

"N-n-not you, Sou! The 'so' used to s-start conversations," Mashiro's arms were flailing by this point, "You know, like, 'so, how's the weather' or 'so, how's it going?'" Mashiro gawked at Sou's sly face. After his heated defense he stopped flailing his arms and angled his head down, finishing his discourse lamely.

"_So_," Sou said with mocking emphasis after he processed Mashiro's words, "you . . . weren't flirting with me?"

"W-w-what?!" Mashiro squeaked like a girl, "N-no! I was _not!_" And with that he pushed his chair back, grabbed his tray, and left the table to go inside in a huff.

Sou watched him go with a small smile while shaking his head. Leaning back in his chair and picking up his teacup again, he pouted when his fingers felt the ceramic.

"Awww, my tea's cold."

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A/N—This was supposed to be mildly funny, but it ended up just being a waste of time you have my apologies.

(Also, for those of you ASN fanfic writers, don't you find yourselves continually writing "Sour" instead of "Sou" by accident? So annoying I tell you!)


End file.
